Hidden Colours
by CheekyChook384
Summary: Kurt has been hiding himself from Blaine. His arm tells the story that he just cannot. Tattoo fic. Klaine.


**A/N Everything has a meaning, eveyone has a secret. Kurt's are up to your imagination. Beware if you are ****even slightly triggered****, please stop here. But, thank you if you do read, it means a lot.**

It was done now. He had finally got it completely finished and as he peeled off the hot, white gauze, he could see that there was no sign of the blotchy red marks that had marred his originally porcelain white skin. Kurt smirked. He had done it. He was seventeen, Burt didn't know and he had spent every cent he had earned working at that gross, rat infested Lima Bean on it but as he traced his long fingers up and down his arm he knew it had been worth it. Still he sighed, layers from now on. Sure, he knew it was illegal but how could anything so pretty be illegal? He pursed his lips and shrugged on his dress shirt and jumper. Flinging his messenger bag over his shoulder, he called a hasty goodbye to Burt and made his way to school.

Of course he had had it done professionally, he had checked out the parlour's certificates and they seemed legitimate. What wasn't legitimate, however, was his ID; Puck had been selling them and for a price but still, he looked tall and old for his age, he had been through a lot and it seemed nature had forced him to grow up faster than anybody else. He'd styled his hair into a perfectly coiffed quiff, his pale foundation had been just right and he had spent weeks working out the perfect outfit to persuade the tattoo artist that he was effectively eighteen. It had worked and it had worked eight times. Eight times! He wouldn't go back there until he was genuinely eighteen; he has pushed his luck too much already. The pain was minimal though; enjoyable even because he knew what it stood for, he knew anybody else would accuse him of not knowing his own mind but he had known exactly what he had wanted since he was nine years old. He had spent most of third grade doodling designs in his notebook and then his teenage years perfecting them with shading, fonts and more tasteful colouring.

As he hurried into school, he kept his hand pressed against his arm but he quickly pulled it off, thinking people would notice. They wouldn't considering the onyx black piercing that looped over his lip in a perfect, metallic arc was quite a distraction. He chewed on it a little. No matter what he told himself he was still a bit nervous. He hadn't even told Blaine and Kurt was late. Head down, he pushed open the door and slumped into his desk in the front of the room, pulled out his book and hastily shoved his nose into it.

Kurt held his scarf pressed it his face for most of the day. He didn't even dare eat lunch. He didn't know why but he felt so much guiltier about the lip ring than the sleeve, it was almost as though he felt that his sleeve was only for him but his lip ring, well, everyone could see that. He didn't know what was wrong with him. When the bell finally rang, he scooted out from under his desk and fled to his car. Shoving his bags into the boot, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Kurt flinched and dropped his scarf, whirling around to see who had touched him. Blaine. Aw, crap.

"Um. Kurt? You seem to have your lip pierced." Blaine stated.

"Well, yeah. What else is it going to be? A rogue polo mint?" Kurt snapped, unable to help himself.

"Oh. I suppose." Blaine muttered, a little angry. "But, why didn't you tell me?" It was Kurt's turn to stutter.

"Well, um. I… I liked it, you know and it's not like it's my first!" Kurt bit back at Blaine, suddenly defensive. He realised his mistake and clamped his hand over his mouth and winced.

"What?"

"It's not like it's my first…" Kurt said through his hand, trailing off. It wasn't his first but this was his only visible one.

"Kurt. I have been dating you for ten months and you didn't think to mention this?" Blaine fumed. "You know, I don't even mind the piercing, _piercings,_ but you lied and that hurts, Kurt. I… I don't even know what to say to you. I would tell you if I got a piercing or anything else for that matter. You know what, just go away. How many secrets have you got Kurt? Is this the only one?"

"Yes." Kurt said but with no conviction at all. He sighed and followed with a timid,

"No."

"Fine. Well, see you around Kurt. Maybe we can speak again when you decide to stop holding off in this relationship." Blaine growled and stormed back into the building. Kurt smoothed the sleeve of his right shirt down and pulled himself into the car.

Finn was out. Carole was out. Burt was out and they wouldn't be back until Sunday evening - it was Friday. Kurt strolled around the house in his sleeveless T-shirt, glancing at his arm every couple of minutes, almost checking that the ink hadn't run out of his skin whilst he wasn't looking. He had done his homework, read his vogue and now he bored. He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked his texts. None. Blaine really was serious about it. Kurt sighed and curled himself up on the sofa. He turned the TV on, deciding on trying to absorb some inanity for an hour, or two. After the first couple of episodes of whatever awful mush he was watching, Kurt pulled up he knees to his chest and he fell asleep.

Blaine paced up and down in his room. He knew Kurt had been lying and he was so, so mad! He growled. He liked the sound of it and growled again but this time, he swung his fist out and it connected with the wall. Blain yelped. Little pricks of blood were pooling on his knuckles and it was beginning to sting. He skidded into the bathroom and poured water over his 'wounds', watching the blood swirl down the sink. He dabbed his fist with a towel, his knuckles still twinging with pain. Grudgingly, he pulled his mobile out of his pocket and punched in a message.

Kurt's face was vibrating. His hand swatted at his sleep rouged cheek, sending his mobile crashing onto the hard, wood floors. "Oh God!" He fumbled, swiping his phone off the ground and almost cradling it in his hands.

"Yes?" Kurt answered (once he had remember how to).

"Why haven't you answered your texts? And I'm coming over." Blaine ended the call. Kurt sucked a breath in. Blaine was coming over. Here. He would be here in minutes as ever since he had moved to Lima, he had a habit of turning up unexpectedly leaving Kurt only minutes to cover himself up. He was still breathing hard, frozen to the stop, still undecided whether or not to get a shirt when Blaine hammered on the door five minutes later. "Oh God, oh God, oh God!" Kurt murmured. He opted for the shirt. Finally, he stood up and opened his front door and almost instantly Blaine barrelled in but when he made his way into the hallway, he seemed to have lost his nerve.

"Um."

"Just get in." Kurt said with new found courage and pushed him into his living room.

"So, you wanted to see me?"

"Urrm, yeah. Look I'm sorry. I was harsh. Really, I was and I was just shocked, it was though you had just told me you were someone else entirely. I feel like I don't even know you Kurt." Blaine garbled. "I just… I love it. I just wish you'd told me but then you said you had more and I was just meaner and then I stormed off… I really regret that now and it's not just because I am so unbelievably curious to see what on earth you also have pierced but…"

"Stop. Blaine, stop. I get it. You were mad. I would be mad too, I suppose. I just, I just wasn't ready for you to see them yet. Why do you think I wore the layers?" Kurt said, gesturing down his body. "I don't know if I'm even ready now."

"I'm sorry. You know, I love you." Blaine said, staring into his eyes and placing a chaste kiss to his Kurt's lips, avoiding the piercing completely. "I'm just curious. That's all." Kurt sighed. His mind was racing but his heart was racing faster. Was he really ready to show him? Show Blaine everything that was his and personal? He loved Blaine. Blaine loved him.

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"Look, just come to my bedroom will you? I don't feel right showing you in my living room." Kurt yanked Blaine up by his wrist and pulled him into his room.

"What do you want to know?" Kurt asked, he voice only wavering slightly. "Ask me anything."

"I just want to know how many piercings you have?" Blaine replied.

"Four."

"Four! How can you hide four? Oh God Kurt, you don't?" Blaine gestured with his eyes.

"No! Blaine! No. Just no. Those are not for me." Kurt admonished. Blaine almost sighed with relief but stopped himself.

"Well, what are they and when did you have them done?"

"I have my septum and about a year ago." Kurt flipped down the forked black ring before quickly pushing it back up. Blaine just stared. He decided it was best just to keep going.

"You already know about the lip piercing which I had done during the break..." Kurt was beginning to panic so he picked up Blaine's fingers and brough them near to it, the could sense Blaine more than anything wanted to feel it. "Go on." Blaine touched the cool black ring and twisted it carefully around Kurt's lip. Kurt sighed.

"Can we, you know?" Blaine asked, blushing. Kurt scooted closer and pressed his lips against Blaine's. It was slow and sweet but soon their lips began to move and Blaine's tongue pressed against Kurt's mouth, nibbling slightly on the ring. Kurt groaned and kissed back harder, pulling himself up onto Blaine's lap and straddling his hips. Tentatively, he ground down slightly and wound his fingers into the other boy's darker hair. His heart leap - he had never let this happen before. His back arched and his chest pressed up against Blaine's. Blaine tensed but Kurt just continued kissing with the same intensity – he knew Blaine could feel the rings that were pierced through his nipples, he shivered with the thought. He began to unbutton Blaine shirt, making easy work with his fast fingers, pulling away the fabric. Kurt's fingers trailed down his chest, leaving kisses in his fingers' wake. He pushed down harder causing both he and Blaine to gasp. Kurt pushed his tongue into Blaine's mouth but Blaine kept pulling and sucking on the exposed piercing and occasionally bucking up onto Kurt. Blaine seemed to be gaining confidence as he moved his hands upwards, tracing and outlining Kurt's hard nipples. Suddenly, he jerked on the rings causing Kurt to moan with pain and pleasure.

"Do it again." Kurt said, his voice gravelly. Kurt whimpered as Blaine moved away, only to come back and nibble at the cold metal through Kurt's shirt, leaving little nips and rips in the fabric. They were both grinding down hard on each other, Kurt lost in his own mind and Blaine slowly but purposefully undoing his buttons one by one. He yanked off his shirt but suddenly Blaine stopped. Kurt's skin prickled with chill and his muscles seized. Everything was quiet except for the increasingly anxious panting coming from Kurt. He made a lunge for the shirt.

"Stop." Blaine whispered. "Please, just stop." He looked up into Kurt's eyes which were shining with shame. They both sat there in various states of undress and just looked at Kurt's arm. Blaine couldn't even have imagined Kurt would do this to himself. He breathed in deeply then delicately extended a finger and began to trace one of the thin, perfect black lines that ran across Kurt's arm. He shivered. He was seventeen for goodness sakes'! Who would let him mark himself like this? It was stunning but it was illegal, Blaine thought. Deep down, though, Blaine knew he would find one but not, not this many. A whole sleeve! It must have taken years of work and planning, countless sessions, hours of pain and hundreds of dollars but my God, it was so beautiful. The way the artist had created the colours on Kurt's icy white canvas was extraordinary and it seemed stupid but it was as though they were so throughly him that he couldn't now imagine Kurt without them.

"Kurt? How did you... Why did you... Have you told... Kurt?" Blaine stumbled, still unable to take his eyes off the whorls of colour that coated Kurt's arm.

"They were supposed to be mine. No one was supposed to see." Kurt hissed, tears pricking at his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I'm sorry"

"Just give me the shirt, Blaine." He passed it over and Kurt hastily buttoned it up. "You've seen everything now."

"Look, I'm sorry. Please, just forgive me. I'm so, so sorry. They are so beautiful and there are so many! I love them but I won't ever ask to look at them again." Blaine pleaded - Kurt sounded so dejected.

"You promise to tell nobody?" Kurt whispered.

"Nobody."

The moment held for longer than either of them would have liked before Kurt measured and carefully began to peel off his shirt to slowly, one by one, reveal the art below. The first pieces were an inch tall and obviously the earliest of the works, five pink lambda symbols that had been etched in away that they appeared like they had been painted to his skin, the tails looping in extravagant flicks. They were surrounded by tiny pale purple, pink, blue, yellow and green slodges that were 'painted' on and these seemed to continue all the way down the sleeve as a beautiful, patchwork filler.

Adorning his arm like a cuff was a band of gorgeous golden pansies intertwined with lillies that seemed to shine. Blaine remembered what his mom had said about flowers, they all had meanings, the lilly as a flower of motherhood and the pansy as the flower of remembrance. Blaine felt a jolt in his heart and the first tear fell, he didn't wipe it away. Protruding from the band was a delicate blue feather that seemed to flutter as Kurt flexed his muscles, the mingling of black and blue lines that were barely a half a millimetre thick made it seem as though it had been laid there by a long gone bird of paradise. But as Kurt revealed more of his arm, he realised where the feather had come from - a prickly, brown nest of bluebird, big enough for three but only containing two. Their minute beaks were bright yellow against their nearly turquoise feathers and even as they nestled together, their black inked eyes seemed to twinkle. One bird, who seemed bigger and older had its wing wrapped around the smaller, younger bird - Kurt.

Still moving down, in the ditch of his arm held what seemed to be three, dark green lima beans, tucked away in there Blaine supposed they were the most easily concealed of his tattoos. Kurt hesitated there, Blaine gave him a reassuring smile and he began removing his sleeve once more but this time, his fingers were trembling.

Underneath this, however, was a pair of scissors covered in a sheen of orangey rust. It was ugly and compared to the almost goddess-like theme of his upper arm it seemed out of place and unnatural. Blaine recoiled, the ends of the scissors were dug into his arm, the skin poking upwards in a jagged curve with the surrounding area inked in a red that almost seemed to drip from his flesh. Tears leaked from his eyes freely when he realised that covering his arms were thin, white scars that seemed so raw and so full of pain that he choked. Swirling from the back of his arm was a needle, threaded with very pale red wool and it seemed to have stitched all of the patches together, loosly tying his pale arm into one, unbelievable creation but over the scars, that Blaine barely dared look at, were words. They were stitched straight over the wounds in fantastical loops, 'courage', 'live', 'create', 'inspire', 'transform','unique', 'beautiful', and finally 'breathe' were all linked together with thread and sewn onto his arm as a permanent reminder of who and what he was.

Blaine finally brushed away his tears but only to lean down and kiss each individual word and the scar beneath. He was Kurt and he was perfect.


End file.
